Footman's Fantasy
by paragirl91
Summary: When Ste Hay, a poor farm worker, gets the opportunity to apply for the role of footman at Finchley Hall, he has no idea just how life changing the new job can be.


**I really shouldn't be starting another fic until I've finished the others but couldn't resist this one, I've been thinking about it for ages. **

**As a massive fan of Downton Abbey, I'm hugely basing this on that (basically a Stendan Downton) and I wouldn't wish in anyway for this to be copying House Of Pomegranates, that was a brilliant fic. Apart from a similar time period they should both be completely different.**

**Also, I'm a bit lazy when it comes to research, so apologise in advance if some of my knowledge of the time is a bit made up, plus it will be set in a fictional area to make matters like this easier.**

Ste couldn't believe he'd managed to get a footman's job, I mean, seriously, how could someone like him, an only child from a poor farming background, suddenly be waiting on the wealthiest family in Heathercolne? It had come about by pure luck really, a few months ago he was mucking out the pigs when he'd heard the cry of a female. Turns out Lady Cheryl, daughter of the Earl of Finchley Hall, had been on a horse ride when her stallion had been spooked by a passing motor car. In a frenzy it had bolted across the fields, ending up at Ste's family's farm where it had thrown the poor lady from its back, and this was where Ste had found her, mud stained in a puddle, despair written all over her face.

After helping her get cleaned up, and settling her nerves with a pot of tea, both had retrieved the straying horse ready for the lady to be back on her way. As a gesture of thanks, Cheryl had promised Ste that one day she would help him make a better life for himself. Whilst drinking tea she'd asked Ste about the farm, and somehow Ste had found himself opening up to her, telling her about his sorry excuse for parents. A father who was always gambling away their live stock, and any winnings he did make, he frittered away at the local public house. And his mother, well…when times were hard, he knew that she sold herself for money, didn't have to be a genius to work that one out, especially when she just disappeared at night, bruising marks appearing on her neck and bosom in the following morning light. Needless to say, his father was too drunk to care, in too much of a drink induced coma to have to worry about the sobbing in the night that kept Ste awake.

Lady Cheryl had dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief once Ste had finished speaking. He didn't need her pity, or anyone's for that matter, but it had felt good to finally speak it out in the open. She told Ste that this wasn't the life that he deserved, however much he tried to protest otherwise.

'Ste love…' she'd proclaimed as she rested a caring hand on his shoulder,

'If I could, I would give you a place within the house right away, but I am afraid I do not have the power to do so…..that would be my father's business…however, if a position were to become available I could put you forward for the role, give you a good reference from what I have seen of you today.'

Ste was nodding, face full of hope.

'I shan't promise anything love, but I shall leave you with the knowledge that I will do my best.'

Ever since that day, Ste had become more and more intrigued by Finchley Hall and the family that occupied it. He'd recognised that Cheryl had a strong Irish accent, creating an air of excitement when he thought about the place, the huge manor house that accommodated foreigners from across the sea. He'd never had the chance to travel, wondered how different things were elsewhere. He hoped that one day he might be acquainted with Lady Cheryl again, and maybe she would indulge him with stories of that far away green island.

As luck would have it, it wasn't too long before Ste had received a letter, postmarked from the manor he had collected it with eager excitement, thankful that his parents weren't around to pry so he had some privacy to open the seal and absorb every last written word. In the letter he was told that a footman's position had become available, and that if he were interested, to report to the manor house on the following Monday. No reason was given as to why the position was no longer occupied, however, rumours had been circling around the village that the former footman, a Mr Mark Savage, had been having an affair with the butler's wife, resulting in an illicit pregnancy. The butler Blake, had supposedly gone out of his way to achieve the footman's dismissal, which now led Ste up to this very moment.

He was dressed in the smartest clothes he'd been able to afford, a brown second hand tweed suit, accompanied by his grandfather's lace ups that he'd acquired after his death. On leaving the house, Ste thought he looked good, however, faced with the manor that he was now taking the long walk towards, he was unsure that the many faces that inhabited such a place would appreciate such a minor effort. The only thing that could make him relax slightly was the thought that he'd already met Cheryl, therefore if the rest of the family and staff were as kind and considerate as the friendly blonde, then surely he had nothing to worry about?

Ste tried hopelessly to convince himself of that as he reached the towering door way. A gold knocker took centre place amongst the richly painted black wood, Ste felt it's heaviness as he meekly worked up the courage to knock. A couple of raps left him presented with an open doorway and a tall looking fair haired man, who despite a youthful appearance, Ste guessed at closer inspection, was probably in his fortieth year of life. Dressed in black tails Ste thought he looked like something out of the movies, the expensive attire made him self consciously peer down at his own, suddenly feeling even more so inadequate. He tried to ignore the judging glare that the butler was giving him as he recited a common greeting of 'Can I help you?'

'Err…' Ste stumbled for a moment, momentarily forgetting why he was here.

'Ermm my name's Mr Hay….I've come to apply for the footman's job. I think Cheryl..err…Lady Cheryl is expecting me?'

'And how do you know the lady?' the butler sneered.

Ste was suddenly lost for words, about to turn on his heel. This had to be the worst idea he'd ever had. He'd only met Cheryl once, who was to say that she'd even remember him? Sure he'd received the letter about the position, but as far as he knew, every young man in the village was probably sent one.

Before he could make that final, life changing decision, Lady Cheryl suddenly appeared in the doorway, startling the stern butler.

'I thought I heard voices' she smiled.

'Ste, how are you?…..Mr Blake, please show our guest through to the drawing room and ask Mrs Roscoe to make some tea. I'll fetch papa and be through in just a moment.'

She left again as quickly as she came, leaving a startled butler, who on following his duties, ushered Ste in to an extremely grand hallway. He was then led in to the most beautiful room he had ever seen, all high ceilings and embroided décor. He stood around for a moment, unsure of whether he was actually allowed to sit on furniture that looked like it was only fit for a king.

'Sit down.'

The butler's request sounded more like a demand than an invitation. Ste did as he was told, hesitantly perching on the end, scared of making a dent in the carefully plumped cushions.

'The family will be with you shortly' he was told. The butler then turned on his heel and vacated the room, leaving Ste alone in the unfamiliar room. It was hard to take it all in.

**Let me know what you think. I've actually managed to write this first chapter really quickly, it's amazing how much is just coming to me, and it's fun visualising it all. I found it hard to think of a title, so if I come up with anything better it might change. And don't worry…I plan to have Ste meet Brendan in the next chapter ;)**


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